Disappointment
by AuroraExecution
Summary: A story that takes place in Minas Tirith, and is related to disappointment and stewards. The story will be ruined if I tell you any more, so go read it and find out...and then write me a review if you like it!


**Disclaimer: **Yes, we all know already that LOTR belongs to Tolkien, and Numb belongs to Linkin Park. And nothing belongs to me but the part where I put them into a story.

**Notes**: This is a story that was inspired by Nieriel's Music Video, Numb, with the Linkin Park song of the same title. Go watch it on Youtube if you haven't already. It's really really good. The quotes in the story are from the song. Unfortunately, it's definitely not going to be as awesome as the music video, nor is it completely about the same thing. It's related though. So. Please read and review and be gentle. Flames will be used to incinerate my physics homework.

* * *

**Disappointment**

_I'm tired of being what you want me to be  
__Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface  
__Don't know what you're expecting of me  
__Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes  
__Every step that I take is another mistake to you_

_--_

The young boy walked through the gardens of Minas Tirith, wondering what mischief he could get into today. His six-year-old mind was furiously creating and rejecting a myriad of plans, and therefore he was not paying any attention to the walkway in front of him when he ran into a pale woman.

"Good morning, child," she said. The boy looked up, blushing.

"Sorry, auntie." The woman smiled.

"I don't mind. Just don't run into your father like that." At her words, the boy's face darkened and grew somber.

"Where _is_ Father?"

"He's in the throne room, speaking to Lord Elithil." The boy smiled a little. "And yes," his aunt continued, "that does mean your little lady is here." Her statement received a blushing glare from the child. The woman ignored it and winked at her nephew. "She's not in the throne room. She's in her usual chambers."

"Thank you, auntie," the boy shouted back as he ran off. His aunt smiled and shook her head at the playful young one.

--

Not ten minutes later, the boy stood before his friend's door. At his knock, a young noble lady with long brown braids emerged. "Oh, it's you," the girl said, obviously glad to see him.

"Want to go play?" he asked immediately. The girl grinned, dimpling.

"Sure! Which rules are we breaking this time?" The boy laughed.

"As many as you can think up!" He took her hand. "Let's go! I have so much to show you!" And they were off.

--

The two children spent all afternoon in the wilds near the city, even though they were not supposed to pass the second gate. As the sun lowered in the western sky, they began heading back. "If we get in trouble…" said the girl, "this was your idea."

"And you agreed to go with me," the boy reminded her.

"Only because you half-dragged me," the girl reminded him back.

"Race you back?" the boy asked with a smile, starting to run. Very soon, he had the girl far behind him. Suddenly, a cry rang out from behind him.

"Help!" The boy turned back immediately, ran for a few minutes, and came upon the girl standing near a tree and grinning. "Thought that would bring you back," the girl said mischievously. There was a flash of anger in the boy's eyes.

"All right," he snapped, "Since you're so clever, then you can find your way home all by yourself." And he took off running through the woods. The girl chased after him for a little while, but anger quickened his steps until he far outdistanced her.

"Help!" The cry rang out behind him again. Thinking that she was playing her tricks again, the boy ignored the cries. "Help!" It came again. This time, she called his name. He stopped dead in his tracks, paused for a second, and ran back the way he had come.

He found her standing waist-deep in a muddy swamp, with a warg looming near the edge and blocking her way out. Her eyes lit up when she saw him. Placing a finger to his lips, he picked up a large fallen branch and began tiptoeing towards the wolf-creature. The girl quickly swept away her tears and tried to look braver than she really felt. Raising the stick above his head, the boy slammed his makeshift weapon at the beast with all his strength.

As the stick pierced its hide, the warg reared back, howling in pain. Immediately, it lashed backward at the boy, who could only attempt to wield the broken branch as a quarterstaff of sorts. Unfortunately, the boy was not nearly as strong as the warg, and the branch had not been balanced properly. The warg forced the boy to retreat, step by step. In the heat of the battle, the stick broke in half.

The fight continued, with the boy backed against a tree and holding a broken branch, and the warg snarling in anger and piqued by the jabs received from the stick. The creature reared back onto its hind legs. At this, the boy seized his chance, remembering all he had ever learned about wild beasts, and thrust his stick into the warg's belly with all the strength he had left. The warg roared in pain and fell, bleeding profusely. It did not rise again.

The boy dropped to his knees and took a few deep breaths as he soaked in the fact that he had just won a battle against a warg. Only a few seconds later, however, he was running towards his friend, who was still stuck in the muddy swamp. Without thinking, the boy plunged into the murky waters and dragged her back out again. The two children sat for a couple minutes on the bank, panting and collecting their wits.

"I'm…sorry," the girl said finally, blushing at the shameless trick that had gotten them into such trouble in the first place. The boy smiled a little.

"I'm sorry, too." And the two of them returned home hand in hand.

--

By the time they reached the gates of the city, the sun was already setting. The first gates were due to close soon, and no one was loitering nearby for the children to hide behind. The guards took one glance at the boy and immediately detained the two children, who were then escorted to the throne room. The boy's grandfather was about to leave, having finished his duties, but stopped upon seeing the guards bringing the children.

The guards reported to the boy's grandfather, the steward, who merely smiled. "They are merely being the children they are," the steward remarked, dismissing the soldiers. He turned to the boy. "Go on and take a bath. Your father will not be pleased to learn that you sneaked out of the gates again." He winked at the boy before exiting.

As the two children walked from the throne room, a tall man with cold eyes walked up to them. He surveyed their muddy clothing, and the boy's wounds, and murmured frigidly, "You are late in returning, boy." The boy looked down.

"I'm sorry, father."

"I suppose you disobeyed the rules again. But what can be expected of someone who has never learned to obey?" The man glanced at the girl. "And you teach a young noblewoman these same bad behaviors?" he demanded of the boy, "Have you no shame?" The boy tried not to let his voice shake as he answered.

"I will not repeat my mistakes, father."

"As you have said many times," the father replied.

"He saved my life, my lord," added the girl in an attempt to defend her friend.

"And yet, he was the one who placed it in danger in the first place. You are to spend time with my son only because you will one day be his wife, not so he can teach you to disobey. If he chooses to do so, as his future wife, you are to convince him out of it. That is your only duty. Go and think on it." And the man lifted a hand to point away. The girl looked as though she was about to say something more, but the man's frown deepened. She curtsied and ran. The father turned back to his son. "And you. I am very disappointed in you. Why must you tax me with your constant failure to be who you should be? You are next in the line of stewards, yet your behavior is not becoming of one with such a lineage. I wonder if you deserve it at all. Now go. I can't stand seeing you, the grandson of the steward, all muddied and filthy. And make sure you do not disobey again." The boy nodded, telling himself not to cry.

"Yes, father." And he ran off.

--

_Can't you see that you're smothering me  
Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control  
Cause everything that you thought I would be  
Has fallen apart right in front of you  
__Every step that I take is another mistake to you  
__And every second I waste is more than I can take…_

_--_

The tall warrior blinked himself back into full consciousness from his daydream. It was a story his mother had told him when she was still alive. The story always made him cry as a child, and it was one of his favorites. After his mother died, however, he had so much to do and live up to that he forgot the story, just as he forgot so much else. And suddenly, as he stood here facing his father, he had remembered the story again.

A revelation came to him, making him start ever so slightly. His father frowned again, his brow wrinkling in distaste. "Dreaming, again?" the old man demanded scornfully. But the warrior did not look down to avoid his father's eyes this time like he usually did. For he had understood something—something that made him sad and tired, but braver. The boy in the story, the one that always used to make him cry, the one that was so full of life and joy and childhood…in that one moment, Faramir realized the boy his mother spoke of was really who his father had been a long, long time ago.

--

_And I know  
__That I may end up failing too  
__But I know  
__That you were just like me  
__With someone disappointed in you_

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So did you guess that the boy was Denethor? Or who did you think the boy was? Please review and tell me what you thought! 


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